The Wicked (A Novella of the Elder Races)
Page 5
Julian Regillus, the Nightkind King himself, had come to pay them a visit.
Sebastian’s hand on Olivia’s shoulder remained a heavy, hard presence. She could feel pressure from every one of his fingers, although when she glanced at his face, he looked expressionless.
Two of the security crew on duty stepped out of the pilot’s cabin, their faces sharp. They froze when Sebastian gestured to them. He said nothing, but just watched as the Nightkind King and his group approached until they stood at the foot of the boarding ramp.
The King looked up at them where they stood at the railing, his hands on his hips, while his people fanned out around him. From what Olivia understood from popular media, Carling had turned Julian at the height of the Roman Empire. Julian had been one of Emperor Hadrian’s most famous and distinguished generals, and now he was one of the most ancient Vampyres in the world. Even from that distance, Olivia felt his Power covering the dock in a dark, seductive mantle.
Julian’s gaze met hers and held it as effortlessly as if he cradled a glass of wine in his long fingers. What an incredible experience it would be, she thought, to talk with the Nightkind King. The things he had experienced, the vast amount of history he would remember… Although he had begun his life as a human, that was so very long ago, now he must be as different from humankind as all but the most alien of the Elder Races.
The King smiled slightly, almost as if he could read her thoughts. Life as a human had not been kind to him. It had etched itself across the rough planes and hollows of his face until he had conquered it. She wondered what tales the marks on his face told, the enemies he had fought, the pain he had endured, the victories he had won.
What would he confess to her as they talked into the night? Could she unlock the secrets of his soul, sprawled on velvet couches in front of a fire?
He was so strong yet so alone, and he needed her. She could sustain him, while he could fulfill her. Only him, only her, as the unending night scrolled on and on…
A snarl sounded beside her, the sound so violent and shocking it made her jump. She felt so disoriented, at first she could not make sense of what she heard, or why the velvet couches had vanished.
“Stop it,” Sebastian hissed between his teeth.
Olivia twisted to face the man beside her. Sebastian stared down at the King. His bold, hard face had transformed into a look of such naked aggression, she would have taken several steps back had he not held her anchored at his side with that iron, unyielding grip. His Power had roused as well, and surrounded her in sharp, invisible blades.
“I have not done anything,” the King said. His smile had widened, not unpleasantly. “She is human. Some humans react this way.”
While he spoke aloud, the darkest of voices came into her head. If there comes a time when you wish to do so, you may come to me.
And the thing that terrified her most was not that the King had issued the invitation, but that a wild desire had risen up inside of her in response to it. Shaking violently, she turned to face Sebastian and grabbed his T-shirt with both fists. He put his arms around her, his grip as hard and unyielding as his hand on her shoulder had been.
“Don’t look at him,” he muttered.
She nodded jerkily. She whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”
As they spoke, she felt Phaedra’s presence rouse.
Oh no, no.
This strange, deadly scene already had a dangerous unpredictability. They needed Phaedra’s involvement in it like they needed extra holes drilled in their heads.
But something about the confrontation had triggered the Djinn’s interest, and one of the unfortunate realities of this trip was that Phaedra definitely had a mind of her own.
Olivia dared to peek in the direction of the dock, although she tried not to look at Julian directly. Black smoke poured down the bottom of the boat ramp. Phaedra’s physical form coalesced in front of Julian and the other Nightkind.
The Djinn stood directly in front of the Vampyre, her arms crossed, with long black talons laid along her biceps, deliberately on display. She had chosen to appear in her usual black, with her sleek fall of hair ruby-colored like blood, and her white, regal features wearing a haughty expression. The boat ramp was some distance down the length of the yacht, and Olivia could only see her profile, but as Phaedra glanced back up at Olivia and Sebastian, her eyes burned hot like stars.
Julian cocked his head as he regarded the Djinn, his expression sparking with something other than amusement. Every Nightkind creature surrounding him drew closer, and the atmosphere turned deadly.
In the iciest tone Olivia had ever heard from her, Phaedra said, “Vampyre, this female human is one of my associates, and she is under my protection. Do not meet her gaze. Do not speak to her, physically or telepathically. Do I make myself clear?”
Julian blurred into movement that was too fast for Olivia’s human eyes, and so did Phaedra. When they stilled again, the Nightkind King held the Djinn with one powerful hand wrapped around her throat.
And Phaedra held him, too, with one of her hands wrapped around his throat. Olivia could see that her black talons had sunk into his skin. Vampyre blood trickled from the small puncture wounds. She thought of all the Vampyre groupies, nicknamed bottom feeders, who would pay a fortune for that tiny, precious trickle of the Nightkind King’s potent blood.
“Now this has become an interesting evening,” said Julian. His rough, aquiline face had turned brutal. He and Phaedra stared at each other down the lengths of their arms.
Olivia groaned under her breath. “This has become a disaster.”
“It’s perfect,” said Sebastian.
Chapter Five
In just a few moments, Phaedra had affirmed her worth in Sebastian’s eyes and justified his decision in keeping her on the team. As far as he was concerned, she and the Vampyre could tear each other into pieces. Then he could call the Elder tribunal, rightfully claim he had nothing to do with any of it, and they could all sit back in comfort to watch somebody else clean up the mess.
In the meantime, hoping that Bailey was within telepathic range, he said, Where are you?
Bailey said, I’m in my bunk. What’s up?
He didn’t waste time on details. Call everybody who left for shore leave. Tell them to haul their asses back to the ship now. No excuses.
Bailey’s telepathic voice turned crisp. You got it. Where are you?
On deck. Julian’s here.
Do you need me there?
I’ll let you know. Stay put for now.
Huddled into his chest, Olivia still trembled in his arms. He glanced at her, and something powerful and violent surged up inside him at the expression on her tense, pale face. She looked shell-shocked and very frightened.
“It’s all right,” he whispered. “You’re all right.”
“I don’t feel all right,” she confessed. Her fists remained clenched in his T-shirt. “I really want to go to him. I don’t, but I do.”
“Dammit,” he muttered. He wanted to punch something. Someone. He tightened his arms around her.
And somehow, in spite of all that, he liked the fact that she had reached for him when she needed to, and that she still held on to him.
He was a dickhead.
On the dock, Julian and Phaedra remained locked in their standoff, their individual Powers clashing like thunder against Sebastian’s magical senses.
This time when Julian smiled, it was like watching a sword being drawn. “Our Power is designed to draw and trap our prey,” he said. “In a few of us, the trait develops quite significantly as we age. You cannot dematerialize when I have a hold on you, Djinn.”
Phaedra’s expression never changed, and she gave back to the Nightkind King hardness for hardness, blade for blade.
She told him, “I have no intention of dematerializing. I am not, nor will I ever be, your prey. Leave the human alone, explain your presence and then leave.”
Eyes glowing red, one of the ghouls hissed, “How dare you lay hands upon our King and speak to him in such a fashion?”
Sebastian wasn’t very good at distinguishing individual features among ghouls, but he thought this one was female, and she wore the uniform of a captain. The ghoul prowled forward, followed by the other Nightkind, closing in on Phaedra and Julian.
The Djinn’s eyes went supernova, blazing as bright as any other beacon in the night. She said, “You would be wise to listen to me. My grandfather is Soren, first generation Djinn and head of the Elder tribunal. My father is Khalil, prince of the House Marid, the strongest of all five of the Djinn Houses. Do you really want to make war upon me and my associations?”
Sebastian almost wished he had a bowl of popcorn. He could watch the shit they threw down all night. But Olivia’s distress was deep and genuine, and nothing of what had just happened had anything to do with the job he had promised Carling that he would do.
He rubbed Olivia’s arms as he raised his voice. “Phaedra, back down.”
The Djinn’s attention snapped to him, her eyes glowing like lampposts. Clearly not happy at the order, she scowled. Then she snapped open the fingers she had closed around Julian’s throat, displayed her flattened hand in front of Julian’s face and pulled it away.
She had no shortage of attitude. Sebastian would give her that. Phaedra was definitely a loose cannon and, as Olivia said, she was clearly not housebroken, but he liked her more now than he had before.
He turned his attention to Julian. “Please unhand my Djinn.”
Julian cocked his head to one side as he contemplated Phaedra. “I’ll get my hands on you again one day.”
She smiled at him. The expression was a remarkably nasty one, a mere widening of the lips on a very cold face. “When that happens,” she said, “I will not be bound by my word to obey someone else. Then we will see what comes next, Vampyre.”
Julian did not just let go of Phaedra. He shoved her hard. Her physical form flew back in the air, but before she could impact the hull of the yacht, she dissipated in a swirl of black smoke.
When Julian turned to look up at them again, Olivia flinched away, averting her head to focus her attention on the body of the yacht. Sebastian felt again that wild, violent upsurge of emotion, a combination of fury at Julian for frightening her so much and the very real desire to do him damage.
He said through his teeth, “I take it that you had some point in coming here tonight.”
“Yes, I did,” said Julian. “I know that most of your crew are enjoying the many fine things my city has to offer, at places like the Rockit Room, the Red Devil Lounge, the Club Deluxe and the Hemlock Tavern.”
Sebastian went rigid. Julian had specific locations on every one in his crew. When the Nightkind had arrived, Sebastian had taken note that Xavier del Torro, Julian’s second, was absent from the group. Now he thought he knew why. Julian had his crew followed.
Bailey, he said. Did you get through to everyone?
Just finished calling, she said. They said they would return ASAP.
They would, if Julian allowed them to.
“What do you want?” he snapped.
Once Phaedra had dematerialized, the Nightkind King’s attendants had relaxed. Julian slipped his hands into his pockets and turned to stroll along the slip closer to Sebastian and Olivia.
Julian said, “Usually the Elder tribunal is careful to close loopholes and contain all contingencies, but occasionally their edicts hold certain omissions. Here is a case in point. If your crew does not make the initial crossover within three—well, now it is nearing two—days Carling loses all rights to any of her property on the island. That deadline is non-negotiable. There is no provision for you being unavoidably detained. For example, the police can take your crew in for questioning in relation to various crimes that have occurred in the city this evening. They can detain them for up to forty-eight hours without booking them.”
Sebastian very gently let go of Olivia to face Julian. He gripped the railing with both hands, struggling with the desire to throttle the Nightkind King himself. He growled, “Why the fuck would you do that? Are you that petty?”
At his angry words, a couple of the ghouls snarled and stepped forward.
Julian waved them back, and said, “Actually, I have no desire to do that.” He stood in a casual stance, hands still in his pockets as he tilted his head back to stare up at Sebastian. “Carling has invested a lot of time and energy into collecting that library over the centuries, and I don’t care if she retrieves it. I do care about making sure she hasn’t used retrieving the library as an excuse to implement some other agenda in my demesne.”
“For God’s sake, like what?”
“I don’t know. But if you think she is not capable of such subterfuge, you don’t know Carling at all.” Julian pulled his hands out of his pockets. “So here is the deal. I am going to search your yacht quite thoroughly, and you are going to let me. Of course, if you choose not to allow it, I won’t be able to promise that your people will make it back in time to make the deadline.”
Sebastian clenched his hands on the railing so tightly, his fingers went numb. He forced himself to take deep, even breaths. Olivia put a hand on his back. He didn’t know her well enough to interpret what she was trying to communicate, but her touch had the odd effect of calming him down. Just a little.
“Fine,” he said. “On one condition.”
Julian’s people were so confident they had already started forward, which infuriated him, but they stopped again almost immediately.
Julian raised his eyebrows. “And that is?”
“You do exactly what Phaedra said,” Sebastian told him, his voice clipped. “You do not meet this woman’s eyes.” He pointed at Olivia. He didn’t care if it sounded or appeared rude. Olivia was already vulnerable to Julian, and Sebastian would be damned if he made that worse by giving Julian her name. “You do not talk to her. Not physically. Not telepathically.”
“Well,” said Julian. The King’s voice had turned wry. “At least I can promise that I won’t talk to her any more than I already have.”
A half an hour later, a raging Sebastian paced in his cabin.
His room was easily three times the size of the others, with a wide cabin window, a double bed that he could fold up against the wall when he wanted to, and a desk that was built into the other wall. Still, he could only get a good five paces in before he had to whirl around and return.
The Nightkind guards had searched his cabin first with an insulting thoroughness. Now Olivia sat in the chair at his desk while they searched the rest of the yacht and Bailey dealt with them on her own.
Phaedra surrounded the cabin with her presence, filtering out all evidence of Julian’s presence and sealing Olivia and Sebastian inside a protective bubble. The Djinn’s presence felt heavy and sullen against his senses and did something weird to the air pressure in the room. He kept expecting his ears to pop.
None of the crew who had gone out that evening had returned yet.
“Goddamn bastards,” he muttered under his breath. “They could do this for the rest of the night.” For the next two nights. He had kept his word, but that didn’t mean that Julian would. If Carling was capable of deceit and subterfuge, so too was her errant progeny. “Tell me again what he said to you.”
“I’ve already told you three times. He said I could go to him if I wished. That’s all.”
But if she was still under Julian’s thrall, was she telling the truth?
He glanced at Olivia and caught her surreptitiously wiping at her eyes with her head bent. That stopped him in his tracks. He strode over to squat in front of her. “Are you all right?”
She turned her face away and said, “Of course I am.”
She lied with such composure and dignity, it blew apart all of his rage. He took hold of her chin and turned her face gently back to him.
Tears swam in her eyes.
He took a deep
breath. His voice calm and quiet, he said, “Let’s try that again. I will ask, ‘Are you all right?’ And this time you will tell me the truth.”
“I feel humiliated,” she said, very low. “I’m supposed to be intelligent. I’m very well educated. I am really good at my job.”
“You are superb at your job. I don’t have to see you in action to know that. You wouldn’t be on this trip otherwise.” He took both her hands. She still felt chilled. He cupped them between his own, trying to warm them up. “And so?”
“I thought I was a strong person,” she began. “I’ve never had such a reaction to a Vampyre before, and I’ve encountered them countless times. I’ve helped dozens of them at the library without a single problem…”
“Stop,” he said. “Just stop.”
She fell silent and regarded him gravely.
“What happened is not your fault,” he said. Her fingers moved underneath his. He realized he was crushing her hands between his and made a conscious effort to loosen his grip. “It has no bearing on your intelligence or your worth, or strength as a human. It’s like—like coming down with cancer, or—” He cast about his mind for another example but came up blank, so he reached for something that he was more familiar with. “Or mortality. It’s a part of your human condition. That’s all. He is a very old, very Powerful predator, and you are his prey. Everything about him is designed to pull you in, and you heard what he said. Sometimes it takes humans that way.”
She nodded and straightened her back. “Intellectually, I understand what you’re saying. It’s just taking my emotions a little while to catch up. You know, it’s quite terrifying to not be in control of what is happening to you.”
Her words hit him hard, and it was his turn to avert his face. He muttered, very low, “I know.”
There was a pause. He could feel her gaze upon him almost like a physical caress. “That’s happened to you too.”
He didn’t have to tell her anything. The thought flashed through his mind, and he even paused to consider it. He had no business opening up to someone like her, or attempting to develop a real connection. They lived vastly different lives, and his was cursed.